


More than friends

by ErRose



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, k/s day - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining, Romance, is it still mutual pining if one of them thinks theyre actually dating?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErRose/pseuds/ErRose
Summary: Spock is pleased when his friendship with his captain begins to grow and they hold hands and go to dinner together, even though Spock wants to be more than friends.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 24
Kudos: 288





	More than friends

**Author's Note:**

> Happy K/S Day!

Jim was deep in concentration, fingertip on his rook. He hummed quietly in his throat before deciding on his knight instead. Spock almost wanted to smile- Jim had seen the trap he tried to set and avoided it. He looked up at Spock through his lashes, a smug grin on his face. After a few more quiet moves, Spock found himself facing a checkmate. 

“I thought you had me there for a minute,” Jim said with a laugh as he poured a glass of brandy. 

“Indeed. Your illogical approach often confounds me,”

He laughed and sipped at his drink and there was a quiet moment as Spock rearranged the pieces back to start and put the board in its place on the shelf. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the way Jim bit his lip and wrung his hands together- clearly he had something to say. He finished the rest of his drink in one gulp and set the glass down with a hard _thunk._

“You know, Spock, we both have some shore leave coming up right?” Spock acknowledged that this was indeed correct. “Right. Well look, I was wondering if you would want to go to dinner when we get there. With me,” 

This question baffled Spock. They often ate dinner together on the ship, he could not understand why dinner planetside would make him nervous. Perhaps he was concerned about the native food being harmful to humans. The planet was a member of the federation, so any restaurant would have a selection of foods perfectly safe for human consumption. However, if it would make him more comfortable to have someone there who was more familiar with foods that were unsafe for humans, surely he would have no problem accompanying him. 

“I would be amenable to that,”

“Really? Okay great! I’ll uh, I’ll see you then. Well I’ll see you before then of course, but um. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. You know, on the bridge,” He beamed, face practically glowing, with a final look to Spock. The familiar pang that although he could not identify its source, he had become quite accustomed to, rang through Spock’s core, and as Jim left Spock decided to meditate, hoping it would sort itself out. 

The next day, Spock entered medbay, seeking Doctor McCoy’s signature on a report. As he checked the numbers before signing his name at the bottom, he cleared his throat and awkwardly said “Jim told me you two are going to dinner and -now I know this goes without saying- but just don’t hurt him.” Spock felt sure that his confusion registered on his face with an involuntarily quirked eyebrow, because Doctor McCoy added, “I know you wouldn’t mean it, but you know how he is, and you know how you are,”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Doctor,”

“He’s so sensitive when it comes to this stuff, I just don’t want him getting hurt,”

“I would not hurt the captain.” He could not find the doctor’s logic in how going to dinner with Jim would result in Spock injuring him. 

“I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose, Spock, but it’s a complicated situation.” Spock was going to ask for further clarification, when an engineer was brought in with severe burns, and McCoy’s attention was diverted. Spock contemplated possible courses of action that could result in injury- choking, food poisoning, allergic reaction- though none of those would be a direct result of Spock’s actions, and the doctor had specified that _he_ not hurt Jim. 

Outside of medbay, his thoughts fluctuated, warping to include the image of Jim, leaning casually against a bulkhead, consulting with a lieutenant. Something about the sight of Jim sent that warm feeling creeping through his body. For just a moment, he allowed himself to admire the wide shoulders and sturdy frame. A single lock of golden hair drooped down his forehead, and he longed to reach out and push it back into place. He allowed his eyes to linger for too long- Jim’s eyes flickered up and met his. His face cracked into a wide grin and he put his hand up in a small wave. Spock’s heart thudded in his side, and he made a mental note to see Doctor M’Benga about his sudden frequent palpitations when he returned from his personal leave. Jim dismissed the lieutenant, and made his way to Spock. 

“So I was thinking about tomorrow,” there was an almost giddy edge to his voice, “and there’s this place that’s apparently really good. They have signature dishes from all over the federation. What do you think?”

“That sounds fascinating,”

“Okay,” he was clearly repressing another big smile, “do you want to meet up at one of our rooms and go together?”

“That seems logical,” 

“Good. Seven thirty ship time?” Spock nodded, and Jim, still grinning, turned and entered medbay. 

The conversation had been nearly as confusing as the one he had had with Doctor McCoy. They did not usually discuss their shore leave plans in such detail- Jim usually preferred to ‘play it by ear’. 

He replayed the conversation in his mind, looking for some hidden meaning in the words, but his heart thudded in his side again, and considered perhaps seeing Doctor McCoy instead of waiting for M’Benga’s return. In a futile attempt to distract himself, he turned his attention to the lab experiments that the geology department was running. 

Once shore leave accommodations had been posted, Spock determined that the most logical course of action would be to meet Jim at his quarters. When he informed the captain of this, he agreed and batted his eyes as though he had gotten a lash stuck in one. 

They went to dinner and the conversation was somewhat more lively than their usual mess hall meals, but Spock attributed that to the setting and the excitement of shore leave. He told Spock stories he had never heard before, cutting himself off to laugh at his own jokes. The laughter never seemed to cease, he was simply bubbling over with it. Rarely had Spock had such an enjoyable evening with a friend. He was disappointed when they had to leave and began to walk back to Jim’s room together.

“Would it be okay if I held your hand?” The sincerity in his voice demanded sincerity in return. Spock found that even if he wanted to lie, when Jim used that voice, there was no way anything but the absolute truth could cross his lips. 

“That would be acceptable.” He was pleased that Jim thought of him as such a close friend that he was willing to show affection in a human manner. Human friends often held hands for any number of reasons, and Spock was honored to know that Jim felt this way about him. The touch sent a feeling of heat rushing through his body radiating from his right palm. 

“I don’t want you doing anything you’re uncomfortable with, Spock, okay?”

“I am quite comfortable.” The sensation of holding someone’s hand was largely unfamiliar to him, but was still the truth. He _was_ comfortable. 

“I’m glad,” his smile seemed almost shy, “but I just mean, I’m going to let you set the pace. We never have to go any faster than you’re willing to go,”

They had fallen into an easy step shortly after leaving the restaurant, neither too fast nor too slow, but his tone implied that this was very important to him, so he simply said, “Thank you. I will keep that in mind,” 

When they reached Jim’s room (with no problems with pacing) he leaned against the door. “I had a lot of fun tonight. If you want to, I’d love to do this again. Even if we’re not on shore leave, or just on the ship. Whatever you want to do,”

“I also had a pleasant evening, and would be amenable to having dinner with you again,” 

“Great. We should definitely plan that soon.” Spock nodded and Jim let out a breathless chuckle, “Good night, Spock. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

As Spock walked back to his own room, a misting rain began and damped his cheeks and hair, he allowed himself to realize the source of the mysterious heart palpitations and unexplainable feelings. _I am deeply in love with James Kirk_. But he also knew that if he did not want to destroy their blossoming friendship, he would have to repress the desire to stroke his cheek with his fingertips- forever doomed to wonder what Jim’s soft lips would feel like pressed against his own. Though an illogical emotion, he did not want to lose the friendship they had built together, so he would simply learn to live with the desires, while never acting on them. In his own quarters, he meditated, sorting his feelings into neat little boxes to make them more manageable. The warmth associated with the simple state of Jim’s being- his smile, his laugh, the way he batted his eyes- in one box; his desires- to touch, to hold, to kiss- in another. 

The next day, Jim knocked on his door, and asked if he was free for lunch. Spock invited him in and he sat on the bed while Spock got ready, finishing with a careful swipe of eyeshadow onto his eyelids. Uhura had recommended a lunch spot to Jim, and after they ate, Spock allowed himself to be towed around the city and into museums and through botanical gardens. Jim thrilled at every sight and Spock thrilled at the feeling of Jim’s warm hand in his. Even when their hands had grown clammy from the afternoon heat, neither of them let go. 

The sun had set long ago, and they found themselves wandering through a gently lit park in the early morning hours. They sat down on the rim of a fountain that sprayed pink water. Jim gently played with Spock’s hand, tracing the lines in his palm and outlining each finger, occasionally glancing up to make sure Spock was still okay with the touch. Though it hurt to know they would never be more than friends, he was touched that he cared enough about their friendship to make sure Spock was comfortable. 

“So, when we go back to the ship tomorrow, is this going to change? Are we going to go back to normal when we’re back in our routine where the water isn’t pink and we’re eating replicated sandwiches again?” he asked softly, keeping his eyes on their hands. 

“I see no reason why anything would be different when we get back on the _Enterprise_ ,”

“Yeah?” He finally looked into Spock’s eyes. “Good. Because I’ve had so much fun, and I don’t want to go back to that,” 

“I have also enjoyed our time together, and spending more time together in the future would be pleasant.” There was a moment of silence where the only sound was the splashing of the fountain behind them. If Spock hadn’t known better, he would have thought Jim was leaning in, lips slightly parted, to kiss him. 

“God it’s so late,” he said with a breathless chuckle, pulling back, but not letting go of his hand, “I promised Bones I’d be back like two hours ago,” 

“If you would like, I will walk you back to your room now,”

“Well, I’d actually prefer to stay here all night, but yeah, I guess I ought to get back,” 

They walked hand in hand back to Jim’s room, “I actually have to check in with Bones to let him know I’m back. I think he’s worried you’ll take my virtue or something,” he smirked with a roll of his eyes as he knocked on the door next to his own. 

“You’re late.” McCoy was wearing an oversized shirt, soft pants, and an irritated expression. 

“It was my fault, Doctor. I had not realized the captain had promised to be back by a certain time,” 

McCoy just grunted at him and Spock bid them both goodnight as Jim slipped into the room behind him saying “I’m sorry I was late, Bones, but holy shit.” The closing door cut off the rest of his sentence. 

His hand still tingled with the memory of Jim’s gentle fingertips through his meditation, until he went to bed. The vision of Jim, looking almost like he was about to kiss him, floated in front of his eyes, teasing him, making him wonder what he would taste like and how he would feel pressed against his chest. No amount of meditation and neat little boxes could suppress this desire.

Two days after returning from shore leave, they stood together in the turbolift after duty. Jim leaned in and pressed their shoulders together for just a moment, just long enough to send a shock of heat across his back. “How about chess in my quarters? Replicate some dinner?” 

“I would be amenable to that,” 

Jim bit his lip and grinned as he punched in the code to open his door. Without speaking about it, Spock set up the chess board and Jim made Spock’s tea and poured himself a drink as they had done a thousand times before, but something felt a bit different about this time- a little more charged. 

They played with the same ease as usual, Jim gently teasing and goading, but every so often, he would ghost his fingers across Spock’s and that again sent the feeling of sparks through every point of contact. Despite the distracting touch, Spock eventually forced Jim into checkmate. He congratulated Spock on a game well played and moved to program the replicator for dinners for both of them. 

“Do you want to watch a movie with me? I figure we’re both off duty tomorrow, we can afford to be a little irresponsible and stay up late,”

“That sounds agreeable,”

“Do you want a sweater? I try to keep it warm when you’re here but I’m already hot,”

“I would not want to inconvenience you,”

Jim rolled his eyes and fished in his closet and pulled out a soft black sweater. When Spock hesitated, he insisted with a teasing edge to his voice “Look, if you don’t take it I’m going to turn up the heat, and I’ll get all sweaty and smelly and you’ll have to sit next to me anyway,” 

He took the sweater and pulled it over his head. It was like being surrounded by Jim. He imagined that this was what it would feel like to be embraced by him, to feel his arms around him and breathe him in. He forced himself back to the present- where this was nothing more than a friendly gesture.

When Spock sat on the plush loveseat, he left a considerable amount of space between them, but Jim cautiously bridged the gap, letting their shoulders and thighs press together, sitting stiff until it was clear Spock was not going to object, then relaxing back to lean against the back of the couch and tucking his feet underneath himself. Spock’s focus on the movie waned as Jim’s body heat seeped into him and his steady breathing calmed him. 

Before long, Jim’s head lolled to the side and rested on Spock’s shoulder and his breathing slowed. He stayed for the remainder of the movie in case he woke up again. But when the credits rolled, and Jim still snored lightly in his ear, he gently picked him up, set him down onto his bed and pulled a blanket over him. Before leaving for his own quarters, Spock ordered the temperature to be lowered to Jim’s usual temperature. 

While preparing for bed, he realized that he had forgotten to return the sweater and decided to do it another day. After his meditation and hygiene routine, he pulled the sweater on again and curled into bed, letting Jim’s scent fill him. When he woke, he decided Jim wouldn’t miss it for one more day. 

When Jim was invited to a federation dinner, he asked Spock to be his date. He mentioned it to Uhura one day over lunch. She seemed unsurprised. 

“I guess I just assumed he would take you,”

“Why would you make that assumption,”

“You guys are dating aren’t you. Plus those suck alone, it makes sense to bring your boyfriend,”

“We are not dating. He asked me to accompany him- likely in part because they ‘suck’ as you said. Not to mention, I am somewhat more familiar with the customs and cultures of the attending representatives,”

She seemed shocked to learn that they were not involved. “You’ve just been spending a lot of time together lately. And he’s more,” she paused to think, waving her fork in the air, “flirty around you than he used to be. And he’s always been _very_ flirty with you,”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at her. He had never noticed any notable difference between Jim’s interactions with him and with the rest of the crew. 

“He and I are simply friends. He has grown more comfortable in my presence, but nothing more,”

“Whatever you say,” she said with a smirk, but dropped the subject. The thought lingered in the back of Spock’s mind. Surely he had not missed signs of something more between them. Humans required significantly more physical affection than vulcans, and other than Jim’s new penchant for hand holding and occasionally falling asleep on his shoulder, there had been minimal physical contact. As much as he longed to feel Jim’s plush lips against his own or drag his fingertips across his chest, there was simply nothing to imply that those actions would be appropriate within the bounds of their relationship. 

No. He was certain he had not missed anything. But still, the thought lingered in the back of his mind, and soon it was all he could do to try to keep his mind off of how soft Jim’s lower abdomen would feel against his hands. Instead he tried to focus on preparing for the dinner. 

He dressed in his dress uniform, and carefully pinned his awards to his chest. As he attached the final one, his door chimed, startling him. He opened the door to see Jim, stunning in his own dress uniform, the green and gold making his eyes sparkle. 

“Well, don’t you clean up nice?” Jim said with a dreamy look in his eye, as he fixed the ribbon that had gone on askew when he jumped at the door chime. He let his hands linger on Spock’s chest, and Spock’s breath caught in his throat. The silence grew between them, heavy and charged, until a group of laughing ensigns down the corridor broke it. “You about ready?” 

“Indeed,”

They walked together to the transporter room, where they arrived early and waited for the transporter technician to arrive. 

“You really do look very handsome you know,” Jim insisted, his voice low. He straightened Spock’s collar, though he was sure that there was no need. His fingers gently tickled the back of his neck, dragging across the skin and gently tugging on the short hairs. Their breath mingled and Jim’s tongue darted out across his pink lips, and he stared up at Spock through his long dark lashes. If he had had one more moment, he felt sure that he would have been overcome by the intoxicating feeling of having Jim so close. He would have breached the distance between them and kissed him as he had wanted to for so long now. He would pull him flush against his chest and run his fingers through his hair and allow his tongue to explore Jim’s mouth. 

But the lieutenant rushed in, apologizing for his tardiness, and Spock took a step back, clearing the fog that had settled around the both of them. It almost seemed as if Jim looked somewhat disappointed. 

They transported down and entered the party. Jim made his rounds, keeping Spock by his side, adept as always at keeping the conversations smooth and preventing Spock from having to answer too many personal questions. After some time, Spock was pulled into a discussion about the new model scanners and Jim wandered off to top off his drink. By the time the admiral had finished raving about the new possibilities Jim still hadn’t returned to his side. 

He cast his eyes around the room until he found him cornered against a table by Senator Cloll, whose blue hand waved through the air and gestured at a very uncomfortable looking Jim. He had spent the night rescuing Spock from uncomfortable situations, it was time to return the favor. 

Jim breathed a minuscule sigh of relief when Spock slid up next to him and he held out his hand between them, his invitation to Spock to reach out and intertwine them. An invitation he never declined. 

“Senator, have you met my boyfriend, Commander Spock?” Their fingers entwined, and Jim gently squeezed. He continued to speak, but to Spock it sounded like he was underwater. _Boyfriend_. Jim had called him his boyfriend. Perhaps he was simply uncomfortable with the senator’s advances and it was nothing more than a convenient lie to end the conversation. Or he was simply stating that they were friends and Spock had misunderstood. These and other excuses swirled in his head, each falling flat as he remembered the way he said it. _Boyfriend_. Something like affection had colored the word. Spock was frozen. His head was still reeling as the ambassador walked away, looking somewhat dejected and Jim pulled him into a small room off of the side of the meeting room.

“I’m sorry Spock, I know I shouldn’t have said that without asking you first- I know that I promised to let you set the pace, but for god’s sake he was explaining tellarite and andorian mating rituals- just blatantly flirting,” he paused for a moment, looking almost sheepish, “and I don’t want anyone else flirting with me anymore,” 

“Captain, I-” he faltered, still barely registering anything he had said. “Jim, are we involved in a romantic relationship?” 

Jim stared at him without speaking, confusion evident on his face for what felt like hours, but Spock knew was actually less than four seconds. “I… Yeah. I mean, I thought so. Didn’t you?”

“For how long?”

Jim hesitated again, his expression morphing into something between heartbreak and resignation. After a moment, he closed his eyes and answered. “Two months,” he sounded suddenly tired. The pieces began to click in his mind of Jim’s strange behaviors over the past two months- hand holding, snuggling into him as they watched a movie. He replayed nearly every interaction they shared over the past eight weeks and realized how blind he had been. “Shit how many times did I grab your hands? Or invade your space? I’m so sorry, Spock,”

Finally, Spock felt like his mind was caught up to the present. He registered the pain that shattered Jim’s features and the moisture in his eyes that he tried to blink away. 

“Jim, I allowed those actions because I believed it was a sign that our friendship was growing, however I frequently found myself longing for it to be more. Every time your hand separated from mine, I felt hollow. I have been in love with you, but presumed that you did not feel the same,” 

His expression still looked somewhat lost, so Spock placed his hands on either side of his face, and whispered, “May I kiss you?”

He nodded, and Spock brought them together. Jim melted into him, and his hands seemed to roam of their own accord, raking across Spock’s back and down to his thighs, always seeking to pull them closer. His breath tasted of booze and the sweet fruit he had been nibbling on all night. Spock wanted to stay here, kissing Jim, all night but soon their absence would be noted. 

“We should be getting back now.” Spock’s voice had gone rough with desire. Jim’s face was flushed pink and his heart beat erratically in his chest as if intoxicated, though whether that was from the whiskey or the kiss, Spock was unsure.

“I guess so. But later, you and I are going to have to have a talk,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Spock's. Spock agreed, and was about to lead him back to the party when Jim lightly tugged on his arm. “One more thing. Can I keep introducing you as my boyfriend?” Spock nodded, trying to keep his grin so only Jim could notice it. He placed one more gentle kiss against Jim’s lips and he accepted it as if it was the most precious gift he could have been given.

Later that night, as they sat in Spock’s quarters to discuss the depths of their miscommunications, Jim saw the hem of a black sweater he thought had gone missing weeks ago poking out of Spock’s drawer. He smiled to himself and decided he wouldn’t miss it for another day.


End file.
